A Matter of Opinion
by homeostatis
Summary: I don’t follow ugly people, says Yumichika. [Zaraki Kenpachi, as told by the ones closest to him.]
1. Prologue

**A Matter of Opinion**

by. _homeostatis_

* * *

Disclaimer: I use the term "fangirling" loosely.

A/N: This is me fan-girling over Kenpachi while using several different voices to do it in an effort to sound less fan-girl-y. As they say in debate: Shame. Shame.

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**Prologue**

There's been a lot of speculation about the 11th division—why they were all so strangely blessed with power yet live without the brains to back this up, why they heal faster than the members of other divisions, why they had a 5th seat like _Yumichika_— many about their captain, the self-proclaimed Kenpachi from Zaraki.

He was a strange one, no doubt. On his worst days he could be a veritable apocalypse, unrelenting and undiscriminating of who he killed and when, how, and why. On his best days he had words of encouragement for his men ("Stop swinging like a wimp, tuck your elbow in", "That hurt? Bet it does", "I said to stuff it in your ass you dumb fuck") and half-scowls for the rest of the Seireitei.

But there's a different side to him, as there are for most things.

He _is_ as uncouth as he seems and his blood lust is real—very much so— but there are little things to him that others simply cannot see, nor would they be able to comprehend had they been able to see it. It's simply unfathomable that there's more to the frightening captain than meets the eye.

But, strangely enough, there is. And there have only been a handful of people who've ever managed to catch a glimpse of this hidden side. And there's been only one person who ever brought it out of him.

Let's hear it from them shall we? I'm sure that whatever they say will be very, very interesting.

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A/N: Yeeey. I think this will be my only finished non-one-shot/drabble fic. And, yes, that means that I have the other chapters written up already. :) Review


	2. Chapter 1

**A Matter of Opinion**

by. _homeostatis_

* * *

Disclaimer: Yachiru just won't let go of Ken-chan so… no. I own nothing.

A/N: This is me fan-girling over Kenpachi while using Yumichika as an excuse to describe Ken-chan's rock star hair.

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**Chapter 1: Ugly (Beautiful)**

Oh no, not that hideous question again. _Why do I follow Zaraki-taichou? _Don't you know how horribly passé that is? How many times I've been asked that over the years? Sigh. Very well, I shall explain if just to grace you with my wonderful storytelling skills (or perhaps to give you a chance to gape in wonder of my beauty? Of course, of course.)

Other shinigami always ask me this. Why, if I'm so obsessed (for the record, I am not. I merely _appreciate_ it as a good connoisseur should) with beauty, do I follow once of the ugliest men in soul society (and remain in the division where "ugly" is a way of life)?

Well, to put it simply, he's not. Ugly that is.

Oh, of course he's rather stupid looking (who wouldn't with an eye patch and bells in his hair?) but he's far from ugly. I don't follow ugly people after all.

Have you ever seen him without those hideous spikes marring the surrounding air with its putrid presence? Without that monstrous eye patch sucking on his eye just to provide ample breathing space for weaklings who don't know how to stand their ground in the face of powerful reiatsu? With both his eyes trained on you with their terrible, frightening clarity? Scary? Not so much. It's rather charming actually.

What's that? I sound _fruity_? Well, excuse me, who asked for a look into my mind? That's right, jackass.

_Moving on_…

I remember the day I first saw him. Ikkaku and I were unlucky enough to have encountered him on our way to another district and by that time he only fought for the sake of fighting. No one had been able to scratch him in years.

He was tall and gangly with long, greasy hair sweeping down his broad back. It was rather _gross_ observing that little mess but I suppose it was difficult to come across a decent bath in those days (God knew only skill kept my beauty intact for so long). His body was purely muscle, bone, and skin and I remember thinking to myself how absolutely _horrid_ that long, nasty scar was on the left side of his face. Idly, I'd wondered how much the wound had hurt.

He also had a huge zanpakuto on his back (right here I'd promptly thought "well, _fuck_"). It had my attention for a while seeing as I was still trying to think of a way to get out of this mess—being the brains _and_ the beauty of the group really took a lot out of a person sometimes—without messing up my hair when something pink caught my attention. I looked up.

And suddenly I noticed that there was this sweet little girl on his shoulder, clinging like a very cute, pink growth on his back.

(Well, it wasn't until much later—she yanked my hair, the little bitch!—that I realized she wasn't all that sweet but it's the first impression that really counts here.)

I almost laughed, almost, but I quickly reminded myself not to ruffle my cool exterior—oh and that there was this guy with a really, really big zanpakuto in front of us.

Ikkaku, however, had no such reservations (the poor, stupid soul had not even an ounce of my good common sense) and laughed at the little girl like she was one of those nasty drunks blundering along on the sidewalks.

The little girl grew incensed and yelled at Ikkaku, telling the large man how stupid this bald new fiend was and that she didn't like him. The large man—Zaraki Kenpachi as I later found out—did something that I never thought was possible in a hideously selfish place like Rukongai. He patted her on the head (I'd almost believe that he had a slight smile on his face as he did this) and told her that he'd "beat him good" for her.

Upon hearing that pronouncement, Ikkaku, God forbid, challenged the man with the large zanpakuto on his back. And lost spectacularly if I might add. He didn't look very aesthetically pleasing at the end and while I was glad he was alive I still think that he could have gone down in a much lovelier manner. But it was inevitable, I suppose, because had he not lost we would not have heard those words that changed our lives and inspired us to tag along behind this strange man.

No, I will not tell you what those words were so go away; your ugliness is destroying my beautiful aura.

Oh my, I'm going off tangent aren't I? Why didn't you remind me? Huff. Either way, at least now you know how we met. Despite everything it was quite a beautiful experience, don't you agree? (Nod your head if you don't want me to slice it off.) That's wonderful! I'm glad you agree; I do know all about these things after all.

Alright. So where was I? Oh yes, why I follow such an ugly man? I already told you, he isn't as ugly as he is lacking in proper fashion sense.

He's certainly not a pretty boy, _god no_, but he's manly enough don't you think? Broad shoulders, tall, chiseled face, muscles, don't you girls like that sort of thing too? (Of course, I know you prefer men more like me but not everyone can get their hair this wonderfully shiny, or their figures this impossibly fine. You'll have to settle for less beautiful men, and, well, just answer my question please. Thank you.).

But I'm not only speaking of physical beauty. Surprised? I thought so. I'm also speaking of Zaraki-taichou, as a whole; as the man I worked for and under for the past few decades. He was strange and brutish and not a little uncouth but he always showed a different kind of concern for all of us—Ikkaku, me, and especially Yachiru—no matter how small the gesture was.

He knew the beauty in protecting others (not that we needed it) and he relished it with a passion that brought him to where he is today. Ah, wonderfully poetic of me, no?

But honestly, let me ask you, how could a man be ugly like that? What, with that beautiful little girl clinging to him like her life line (I believe that he was all she had once, I wouldn't be surprised if this was completely true) with that joyous smile on her face. She was always very clean you know, always well-dressed and well-fed. Seems that _ugly_ man knew how to take care of a child, hm?

I never saw him as ugly, not really. Intimidating, yes; strange, yes; badly dressed, _oh god yes_; but _ugly_? No. He had his own kind of beauty, just as a snake has its own grace even while it's slithering around on the filthy ground. You just have to find it under the fangs and pray you don't get bitten in the process.

Did that answer your question? Well, good. Now leave, I have to brush my hair.

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A/N: Woo. Chapter two. Lotsa swearin' in the next one. Review!

_Update (11/31/06):_ I THINK I fixed some of the comma errors. I think. 8D


	3. Chapter 2

**A Matter of Opinion**

by. _homeostatis_

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Disclaimer: Maybe it would help if I sued.

A/N: This is me fan-girling over Kenpachi while using Ikkaku's dirty mouth to have fun cursing and making Kenpachi look tougher than he already is.

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**Chapter 2: Brute (Bold)**

Why do I follow him? Well, that's not hard. It's 'cause he's Zaraki-fucking-Kenpachi, that's why.

**What?** That's not good enough? Fucker. Go screw yourself.

Shit, I told you to leave me alone. Fine, fine! I'll answer the damn question just quit pesterin' me.

Well, I suppose it's 'cause he didn't kill me. Don't start that again, I'm being serious. He didn't kill me when he had the chance and when I asked for death he told me to go fuck myself and stop being such a wimp. Made all the difference in the world to me, let me tell you.

First time I saw him, I knew that was it. I was dead or I was the strongest man in the entire Rukongai.

Seeing as I neither won, nor was killed in that battle I suppose the only thing I am now is stupid. Or maybe I really am dead, I don't know.

I wanted to serve under that man; I wanted to die in that service. Yumi agreed with me (also said some bullshit about the beauty of promises and the true splendor of a person's devotion but I hardly listened past "me too") and we both ran for it, spent a week tracking him, and followed his shadow (and that little pink-haired runt on his back) until Seireitei.

We watched as he pushed through the gates, saw him destroy the captain of the 11th division in front of his terrified subordinates, witnessed the skeptical looks he got when he named his adopted-daughter as his vice-captain (and laughed when she proved those fucking bastards wrong), and beat our way up—Yumi keeps telling me that "coerced" is a much _prettier_ word to use but we're the 11th damnit and we don't use words 'cause they're fucking pretty (so SHOVE IT Yumi and stop trying to dictate my story).

'Nyways, where was I?

Right. We were there, through thick and thin. We didn't know much though; far's we were concerned, we knew he never had a name and that Yachiru's means somethin' special to him. We know that he's actually very responsible when you look past the fact that he'd easily run off in a fit of excitement when he's searching for a good opponent. He makes a great Captain 'cause he spent his years teachin' that little brat how to fight and he's as good as anyone when it comes to finding all the hidden things that normal people don't know about.

He's frightening in his power and strange in his actions. Sometimes I don't understand why he does everything he does but there's usually some deeper meaning (or some such shit) to it.

Zaraki-taichou doesn't like to admit it but he does a lot of crap for other people. Most of it's for Yachiru, that lucky brat, but he does other stuff—like askin' Mayuri for that reiatsu-eating monster so that he doesn't rip apart the sekiseki in the place—in concern for the general peoples and I can't help but respect him for it.

There's somethin' worth respecting in a man who's concerned without givin' any real shit about it. An' I follow him 'cause he's something worth respecting. Ain't much of that anymore, let me tell ya.

Now get the hell out of here and leave me the fuck alone.

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A/N: … maybe this should've been on T? Ah hell, I dunno.


	4. Chapter 3

**A Matter of Opinion**

by. _homeostatis_

Disclaimer: I like not being in jail.

A/N: This is me fan-girling over Kenpachi while using Yachiru to cover up any grammatical errors I might have.

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**Chapter 3: Nasty (Nice)**

Why do I follow him? Easy, silly! 'Cause he's my Ken-chan and nobody's better than him! Ken-chan's my whole world. He saved me, gave me a name, taught me how to fight. He told me we were family. Just the two of us… and maybe baldy and feather-brows. I follow him 'cause he's Ken-chan and he's the best.

Yeah, I know you don't believe he's the best person in the whole wide world—even when you _should_ you stupid head— but he is. I know 'cause he's my Ken-chan and I've been his Yachiru for as long as I can remember. He can beat the bad guys pretty good and back when it was just the two of us he taught me how to do that pretty good too. He was good at tellin' me where to hit them (I know 'cause every time I hit where he told me to the stupid bad guys would fall down and stop moving) so I learned really, really fast.

Back then, he would also bandage me up all nice too. He always made sure it never bled too much and that I would eat a lot for dinner (even if he didn't eat himself. Bad Ken-chan sometimes didn't do things he told me to do—like wash up before dinner or not bleed all over the place). Sometimes, he bought me candies and cut up wood to make me a nice toy or two; he always stopped by villages to make sure my clothes didn't stay above my knees even if he got the nice ripped ones that he said I was too small to wear. One time, he got me a really nice kimono. It was pink and green and even if he said it made his eyes "hurt like hell" I knew Ken-chan liked it too 'cause it looked so good on me.

Ken-chan always carried me on his back even if I could run on my own, and he liked to say "don't go far" when I'd go off to chase Bunny-san or Wolf-san into the woods. It was nice too, when he would run after me and pick me up and tell me not to go running into a camp full of bandits because he didn't haul me for years just to get myself killed over something as stupid as a butterfly. I liked knowing that Ken-chan would chase me wherever I went.

I don't like it when I'm alone.

But anyway! Butterflies aren't stupid, but Ken-chan doesn't seem to like them so I try not to chase them anymore.

Ken-chan never makes me cry, not like that stupid mean head that elbowed me in the face once back long, long, long before we met Frilly-Brows and Baldy. Ken-chan killed him good but it hurt so much and blood was getting on my new kimono and I couldn't stop crying.

… can I tell you a secret? I can right? And you won't tell no one 'cause I'll come after you and hit you in the place Ken-chan says makes a Death God a real_ Death_ God.

You won't tell? Yey!

Well, I cried 'cause I was so scared that Ken-chan wouldn't like me anymore after getting hit. Ken-chan never got hit so of course I shouldn't get hit either. But, you know, Ken-chan didn't get mad. He told me to stop crying 'cause my head'll hurt and he patted me on the back and let me fall asleep on his lap.

See? I told you Ken-chan was plenty nice!

Whaaaaaat? You _still_ don't believe me? Pooh.

Why don't you just come over to our division then! I'm sure I can show you how nice Ken-chan really is!

… huh? What do you mean you have other things to do? But I thought you wanted to know if Ken-chan was nice! Stop being silly and get over here! When we get back to the 11th Division we could play tag and hide-and-go-seek and horsie and…

… huh. Where'd ya go?

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A/N: Woah, done. After stalling for a whole… uh, several weeks. Thanks for reading! (although I'm still deciding on several more chapters. Hmmm, what do you guys think?)


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